


Of Course He's Happy

by Silver_Centurion



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One)
Genre: Angry Sex, Body Worship, Dirty Talk, Fingering, Gun Kink, M/M, Pet Play (Kinda), Riding, Rough Sex, Sticky Sexual Interfacing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-13
Updated: 2015-12-13
Packaged: 2018-05-06 11:42:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,765
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5415629
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Silver_Centurion/pseuds/Silver_Centurion
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Whirl has a sweet mech for a lover and no one ever believes him. They either think he's keeping Rung captive or is forcing him to be with him. Is it so hard to believe that Rung could like a misfit like Whirl? Whirl thinks he's awesome and it makes him furious when anyone suggests otherwise. Sometimes he just has to remind himself that Rung is with him of his own accord.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Of Course He's Happy

**Author's Note:**

> This was a prompted I filled on Tumblr. There was a lot of starting and stopping with this one, so if there are any errors please let me know!

It took effort, all of his being, for Whirl to not slash open the door to his apartment. Why did the key pad have to have such fragging, small, fragging buttons?

The screen read error for the fifth time, and Whirl felt his energon boil. It wasn’t the poor locks fault. Poor lock hadn’t done anything wrong, but the fragger stood in the way of salvation, and Whirl was not a patient mech even when he was calm.

It was fragging Cyclonus’ fault. The single horned, stupid, and….purple!! How dare he? How dare Cyclonus of all mechs even suggest such lies?

‘How long have you kept Rung locked up? Have you even fed him?’

Lies!! Rung was perfectly free to roam around his apartment now. His little pet had the run of the place, and Cyclonus had the gall to suggest otherwise. If Whirl ever got his claws on him, and got on him good, he’d rip that pretty face to shreds. Pretty? Who said Cyclonus was pretty? Fragging purple aft with cheep paint was what he was.

Cyclonus was just lucky Whirl had been too appalled to answer right away, but he didn’t have to explain himself to that glitch so he just cursed his birthmech and stalked off. It wasn’t just Cyclonus, though. These damn rumors of hate and neglect had been circling around ever since he took Rung into his home. Everywhere he turned mechs were not only questioning the credibility of his relationship with Rung, but also questioning Rungs sanity if he truly was dating Whirl. Whirl had more than once bashed in a few faceplates on Rungs behalf, but Cyclonus mentioning it had struck something. He didn’t know what yet, but once he found it he was going to shoot it.

The screen read error again and Whirls optic ejected an arc of angry static.

Whirl raised his arm with the full intent to bash the door in when suddenly the lock clicked.

“Whirl?” Little bluegreen optics peaked up at him from behind the door, and Whirls rage dulled slightly at the sight. Although his arm was hesitant to lower. Never know when something might need bashing.

“Rung, baby, you’re not supposed to answer the door,” he warned lowly as he lowered himself to slink past the tiny mech.

Rung closed the door behind him, and he vaguely heard an apology under the roar of the energon pounding in his audials.

“Don’t you fragging sorry me!” He whipped around and pinched his claws dangerously. “Sick freaks can knock on doors. Ones that would frag your sweet little aft till you bled to death. Is that what you want? You’re too fraggible for your own good, especially when you flaunt it to any mech to walks by,” he growled spitefully. “I should just lock you in the berthroom again. At least there I knew nothing was trying to–”

“Whirl,” Rungs voice was gentle. That tone Whirl liked. The soft one that belonged in a berthroom, with locked doors, where no one else could ever hear it. Damn it all. That tone was his favorite when he was pissed.

“What?” Whirl spat as his optic flashed.

Rung approached and calmly touched Whirls flared claws. Those tiny hands with snapable digits lightly rubbed at a seam before stroking down to the point. The small patterns were random but familiar. There was always something in Rungs touch that sent Whirl off the deep end. Sometimes Rung could mesmerize him for hours with those arbitrary shapes he drew with his servos. It was if the world melted away, and all that was left was Rungs erotic worship of his most hated appendages.

“What happened?” The little orange mech asked.

The anger that had left for a few moments suddenly returned. Whirl jerked his claws free and snapped them around Rungs slender throat.

“Did you eat today?” He growled threateningly, reminded of Cyclonus’ insult and determined to prove him wrong.

Rung looked surprised by the question and leaned his head back to keep Whirls claws from clenching around his neck cables too tightly. That didn’t stop Whirl from clenching the sharpest edge into the plush metal just enough to see a trickle of blue.

“Yes Whirl I–”

“What did you eat?” He interrupted and tightened his grip further. Feeling the tender metal give fueled his lust for violence. With just one clench he could have Rungs head rolling across the floor. “What the frag did you eat?!” He yelled with an emphasizing shake of his free claw and gave it a pinch.

Rung reached up and resumed his gentle treatment of Whirls appendage. Tracing the dents, fingering the divots, and stroking the seams of old welds. Those tiny digits danced over his metal and, for a moment, Whirl forgot to exvent.

“I ate cold energon this morning, and this afternoon I ate those goodie sticks you always get me,” he replied with that berthroom tone again. Always calm. Always free of judgment or pity. Pity. That was something Whirl never received from Rung. Those bluegreen optics never looked at him like the others did. Never with that condescending leer of, 'oh there’s the freak’, or 'poor mech’. No those fraggers didn’t know anything. But Rung, oh no, Rung knew everything.

The tense stress he held in his back struts dissipated, and the loosened the vice grip he had on his pets neck. Good. Rung ate like he always did.

Whirl had never not taken care of his pets needs. Rung ate the food he supplied and greeted him with gentle touches or a soft voice when he came home. Rung kept the apartment clean and, when supplied with food, would make Whirl a meal if he asked. Would a starved, caged, pet act like that? Would Rung come to him so willingly if he didn’t want to be here? No he wouldn’t. He came because he wanted to. Because Whirl would reward him.

Whirls panel heated up.

“I thought about you today,” he purred and gently stroked Rungs cheek plate. “Thought about that tiny mouth,” he clarified and felt a swell of pride as he watched blue bloom over Rungs cheek plates.

His claws clicked together, this time with interest, and he circled around Rung as his single optic roamed over his narrow frame. Now he remembered why he was in such a hurry to get home. That pert little aft was ripe for the taking. Rung must have buffed himself too at some point during the day, because the high gloss of his colors begged to be scratched and scuffed. Whirls interface array pulsed as Rung stood still under his scrutiny.

“All day,” he started as an engine somewhere in him revved to life, “I thought about that mouth. I wanted it wrapped around my spike. Hehe even though you can’t handle it. But baby I love watching you try.”

Whirl knelt down to Rungs level and made the other face him. Rung wasn’t unaffected. Whirl could see the subtle signs of arousal and it was clear that Rung was thinking about the lewd images he was spinning.

“Come on babe,” he cooed. “Lick my guns.”

Rung obliged and wrapped that sweet little mouth around the right barrel of Whirls chest cannon. Feeling that hot glossa running over the sensitive rim made Whirls engines rev.

"Yeah baby," Whirl encouraged as he watched Rungs skilled tongue dance along the shaft.

Rung could do such sinful things with that mouth when he was given the right incentive. Within minutes Rung was bobbing and jerking Whirls barrel with enough vigor that Whirl was certain that Rung was trying to make him to the biologically impossible and ejaculate through his gun barrel.

Whirls array felt molten, like his panel was going to melt off. His valve throbbed, and his spike pressed firmly against its' protective housing in an attempt to show Rung just how much the display was effecting him.

A sharp hum cut through the lewd smacking of Rungs lips as Whirls cannons came online. Rung hesitated, but Whirl sharply pinched his claws near Rungs audial to make a point. Yes they were live, yes they could blow his cute little head off, and Whirl was completely getting off on it. His interface panel clicked open, and the feeling of relieving the pressure of his equipment made his vocalizer reset.

The result was immediate. Rung moaned around the hot barrel as the heady scent of his arousal wafted up to them both. The scent entered Whirls olfactory sensors and he quickly found himself getting drunk off the smell of his own fluids.

Whirl had been keeping himself low so Rung could reach his chest, but he sunk even lower and adjusted his legs so that his valve was bared.

"Finger me," he demanded as he tilted his helm back. “And don’t you dare stop sucking my guns,” he added.

Rung obeyed and slipped his small servo down between Whirls parted thighs. He lightly stroked the wet lips of Whirls valve before slipping a single servo into the wet heat. Whirl exvented a groan as Rung curled his servo and started a clean thrusting motion.

The wet sounds of his own valve were making him dizzy with lust. Rung knew just how to make him wet and wanting, and those talented servos could do more than stroke his claws. Rung knew just where every cluster of nodes was and knew just how to stroke or press them in a way that made Whirls valve ripple and clench.

Whirl’s hips bucked down as Rung added two more digits, and he groaned as Rung paid particular attention to his outer node. His thumb circled the swollen node, and pressed into it hard as he curled his servos into a sensitive cluster of sensors. Whirls vents hitched as pleasure rocketed up his spinal strut. Heat boiled in his tanks and, as much as he’d like to overload, he wanted to draw it out a little.

“Alright Eyebrows that’s enough,” he said through deep exvents and shuddered as Rungs servos pulled away dripping. His gun barrel glistened with oral lubricant, and a bridge of it connected the tip of the barrel to Rungs extended glossa as he pulled away. Whirl watched it snap and felt more lubricant roll down his inner thigh.

“Frag…” Whirl growled and used his ped to pin Rung back against a nearby wall. “You’ve been so good today baby. Tell me what you want. You want this?” Whirl asked as his pressurized spike extended greedily from its cramped housing. Rungs optics dimmed, but it wasn’t the hunger Whirl had expected.

“No? Hmmm,” Whirl rumbled and circled his own valve with the tip of his claw. The result was more enthusiastic. “Oh you want my valve today Eyebrows? Huh? You wanna get up in me?”

Rungs glossa darted out to moisten his lips and he nodded eagerly, “Yes, yes Whirl. Please?”

Whirl loved to hear Rung beg. It was music to his audials, and the desperate tone Rung had today went straight to his array. Frag he felt like he was on a speeder and they hadn’t even started yet.

“Get to the berthroom,” he commanded and released Rung. Watching Rungs knees almost give out, he suppressed a groan as his own thighs rubbed his sensitive equipment as they both went into their modest berthroom. The berth itself was rather large to accommodate Whirls, often very odd, sleeping positions.

Rung slid back onto the bed and Whirl hopped on after him. He adjusted himself and knelt down as Rung got comfortable below him. Whirl tapped Rungs heated panel and it opened without hesitation. Rung was firmly pressurized as well and despite his size his spike looked so proud as it twitched, eager for stimulation.

“Heh look at you. You always get go fragged when you finger me,” Whirl commented and wasted no time impaling himself onto Rungs spike.

Rung gasped and Whirl clamped down as the friction stimulated his insides. Rung may be small but there was always something electric about taking the smaller bot like this. Whirls valve never got the attention it deserved, and Rung was always a willing sybian.

Whirl started to roll his waist and the slick sounds of his soaked valve filled the room along with Rungs sharp exventing. The orange mech was fisting the sheets of the berth, and Whirl could hear Rungs peds shifting as well. Rung wanted to start bucking into him so bad. Whirl could just see it in the straining cables of the smaller mechs neck. Heat already started to build up in his frame as he watched Rung squirm.

Whirl slowed his hips and rolled them in a teasing display that had Rung’s optics sparking. Oh teasing Eyebrows was the highlight of his day, but Rung had the patience of a saint. Whirl could tease him like this for hours—of which he has—and Rung would never buck. Not even once. Part of Whirl wanted Rung to go wild, but another part of him enjoyed knowing he was calling the shots.

“You like this? You happy down there babe?” He snapped his hips roughly and jerked a gasp from his small lover. “Tell me how much you love it.”

Rung locked optics with Whirl and made a soft smile. “I-I love it Whirl,” he gasped out. “You v-valve is so wonderful.”

“Yeah,” Whirl started to pick up the pace, “Yeah it’s good isn’t it?”

Charge tickled across their frames as the friction between them increased. Whirl bounced heavily on Rungs spike and they both yelled out. It was pleasured whimpers and yells that came out of Rungs mouth. Those noises were begging him for more, to go faster, that he felt _good_. Sweet, perfect Rung said **he** was good. Whirl was pleasuring him and there was no denying it.

Whirl felt the charge building and his pace turned erratic. It was Rungs spike that did this to him. Rungs spike, his valve, his face, his voice, frag it was all so _perfect_. And this perfection was his and his alone. He'd hurt—no he slagging _slaughter_ —anyone who would try and take what was his.

Whirls helm gets thrown back as his overload almost knocks him over. His valve clenches and ripples as an arch of electricity bounces in between their frames and he vaguely heard his own voice among the roar of their combined cooling systems. He rode his overload and there was a sudden jolt as Rungs transfluid mixed with the overflow of liquids that quickly started to escape Whirls stretched valve.

Whirl locked his joints and went still as both of their systems cooled down. Below him Rung was dripping with coolant and looked like pliable plastic with no joints. Frag he looked like Whirl just blew his mind.

He chuckled and took pity on the smaller mech and got off him. Whirl ran at a much hotter temperature and he knew that he could be a kiln when he was overworked. He made himself comfortable on his side and rumbled contently as he watched Rung regain his composure.

Rung rolled to face him and gave a smile that made Whirls tanks roll and said, “Whirl? Do you feel better?”

Whirl froze, his good mood gone, and flared his plating defensively, “I didn’t need to feel better. You just needed a good fragging. Don’t look into it.”

Rung regarded him for a moment but thankfully decided to drop it. Instead he asked, “Whirl? I’m suddenly a bit chilled. May I lay closer to you?”

The tenseness melted away immediately at the invitation for contact. He couldn’t very well let his pet get chilled. What kind of mech would he be if he’d let his poor pet suffer?

“Oh baby, your cold? Ol’ Whirlybird will keep you warm,” he cooed, pulled Rungs small body close, and tucked him snugly against him.

It was silent for a few minutes and Whirl was perfectly content to keep it that way, but there was a gnawing question itching at the back of his processor.

“Rung?” Rung hummed softly in acknowledgment so Whirl continued, “Are you happy?”

At the question Rung opened his optics and gave Whirl the most genuine smile he’d ever seen, “Of course I’m happy. I have you remember?”

Something threatened to leap out the back of Whirls throat but he pushed it deep down until the fluttering in his tanks stopped. “Yep. You have the best mech in the universe and don’t you forget it.”


End file.
